


Let Me

by Mrs_Han



Category: Mystic Messenger
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:06:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Han/pseuds/Mrs_Han
Summary: “You wake up every morning to fight the same demons that left you so tired the night before, and that, my love, is bravery.”
Relationships: Jumin x MC
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	Let Me

**Author's Note:**

> It’s crazy how this piece still rings true for me a year later.  
> Please enjoy!

It was your third panic attack that week.

_How ridiculous._

When you shot up the bed sheets stuck to you, drenched with your sweat, your tears. Thin as the fabric was, they entangled you, forced you into thinking someone was deliberately smothering you or trying to snuff the life out of your trembling body.

_What did you do to deserve this? What was wrong, what was **wrong?**_

“Darling... hey... hey.”

His arms slowly pulled you in, steadily anchoring you to the world.

Jumin... _Jumin._

“I-I’m sorry,” you sputtered, eyes wandering the room anxiously. “I’m sorry, Jumin, I’m sorry —”

“Shhh, shh shh.” Your husband’s long, delicate fingers ran through your hair, carefully untangling the knots created while you thrashed. “Don’t apologize. Don’t say anything. Look at me... focus on me.”

“I-I-I can’t, I ca-can’t, I can’t —”  
  
“MC.”

Warm, smooth skin... the palms of his hands cupped your cheeks and he turned your head to face him. His eyes trained on you, he looked determined and focused, confident his steady gaze alone could banish your deepest fears.   
  
“Eyes on me.”  
Commanding, authoritative... even the demons inside of you couldn’t ignore his demand.

Your eyes connected with his for a split second and you were already rehearsing more apologies. You were wasting his time, time he saw as valuable. He needed this time to sleep, to rehearse what he would say during his early morning meetings. He needed this time to review quarterly performances in each department. He needed this time to unwind, read a book or play with Elizabeth the Third.  
 _And here you were, in the middle of another panic attack._

“I-I-I’ll be okay,” you mumbled, pulling yourself away from your husband’s embrace. “I’ll be fine... I’ll be fine.”

The tips of his fingers firmly pressed into your jaw. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare turn your back on me, MC. Don’t go through this alone. Let me help you.”

“No, no, no -”

“Darling, _look at me.”_

His thumbs began rubbing small circles on your cheek. You couldn’t look away... you didn’t want to. Every time he looked at you, a spell was cast, both enchanting and frightening.

Your breath caught in your throat as you heaved.

“That’s my girl... now... breathe with me. Four counts.”

His voice was tender, a lullaby that you would never tire of. Pink dusted your cheeks as you kept your eyes trained on him, fully conscious of how you may have looked.

_Pitiful. Vulnerable. Afraid._

“I’m here. _I’m here_. Let me help you, my love. Mm? Breathe. _Breathe_.” Jumin tilted his head up and moved his fingers to your chin, gingerly lifting your gaze to continue matching his.

“Jumin...”

“In... two... three... four... and out... two... three... four...” He breathed slowly, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through the small o-shape he made with his mouth. His chest rose and fell, his broad shoulders relaxing with each breath.

You closed your eyes as he exhaled, his warm breath fanning the perspiration on your forehead. He made you feel lighter, more in control. In your somewhat grounded state, you inhaled and felt your chest expand, welcoming every ounce of positive energy Jumin had to offer.

“Good girl... you’re doing well, darling. _Extremely_ well. Exhale with me now. Ready? Go slow. Don’t push yourself.”

You nodded and exhaled slowly, shakily. A wave of relief coursed through your body; your fingers and bare toes tingled at the sensation of letting go of the first wave of unexplainable anxiety.

“Don’t stop,” Jumin encouraged. “Again. _Again_.”

It was your third attack that week... and somehow, his patience was still overflowing and abundant. He didn’t try to scold you or rush you through these breathing exercises, nor did he give you a disapproving look or sigh. No, he took you into his arms, brushed away the strands of hair that matted your forehead, and he held you, shooing your fears deftly as temporary parts of yourself. It was so simple, yet so effective.

So much like Jumin Han.

“Thank you...” You sounded weak, exhausted over the ordeal as you exhaled. “Where would I be without you, huh...? Hahaha...”

“... Come here, my love.”

You crawled into his arms. “I’m trying to prevent them from happening, I promise... I’m more open and communicative than I was, you’ve noticed that haven’t you?”

“MC...”

“And I’ve been trying to find things that relax me. I’m trying Jumin, I’m really trying -”

“That’s _enough_ ,” Jumin cooed, the warm flesh of his palm on your flushed cheek. “Be still... stay still and let me hold you.”

“But Jumin -”

“Let me help you,” Jumin whispered.

You tensed. You weren’t used to being helped. Oh, how natural it was for you to guard yourself, even when your close friends encouraged you to express yourself freely. 

_What if I’m rejected? What if I’m too much?  
  
Irrational, yet rational._

“Don’t you see how well you’re doing?” Jumin’s lips hovered over your ear, his deep baritone silencing your inner thoughts. “Why are you ignoring the progress you’ve already made?”

“Because I still have so much to do,” You blurted. “This is my third attack this week -”

His fingers stopped your lips. “This is your third attack after months of meditation, of therapy, and baby steps in communication progressing into larger, bolder strides. My love, don’t these things qualify as progress?”

You blinked. He wasn’t trying to butter you up to make you feel better... right? The hesitation in your eyes was unmistakable; he knew you better than you knew yourself, and it pained him to see the endless battle within yourself.

“You’re too hard on yourself, my princess.” His soft, supple lips kissed your forehead. “Instead of celebrating every little victory, you search for more work for yourself... why? Hm? _Why?_ ”

Tears started to blur your vision and you turned your head away. “I don’t... I don’t, I... I don’t know...”

“Look at me. _Look at me_.”

He didn’t try to have you face him. His tender fingers didn’t touch your chin, nor did his palms cup your cheeks. No, he gave you the freedom to look at him yourself. Tears of sorrow, guilt, and shame slid down your cheeks and dripped off your chin as you lifted your head.

“Oh, my love...”

“I’m so tired Jumin,” you hiccuped. “I’m so... tired.”

“Rest, my love,” Jumin whispered. “Put your head on my shoulder and let me be the one you turn to when you feel this way. Let me be your comfort and solace at the end of each day. Most importantly... allow yourself to celebrate every little victory you achieve within yourself. And let me celebrate every milestone with you.”  
  
“What if... what if I have another attack?”

“I will wake up as I did tonight...” Jumin hummed as he drew close to you, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder. “... I will take you into my arms... and I will bring you back to me.”

“You have the patience of a saint,” you giggled, swiping at your nose.

“Because I married an angel.”

“... I love you so much, Jumin...”

“I love _you_ , my dear one. Now... what do you think of a small party?”

Your fingers fiddled with his wedding band. “For what?”

Jumin’s palm turned upward. “To celebrate your progress. Have I... not made myself clear?”

“... You mean to throw an actual party?”  
  
“Do you have any objections, dearest?”

“Jumin!!” You lightly nudged him. “We don’t have to throw an actual... can you get strawberry cake?” 

He laughed... and your fears, fallacious in their totality, scattered.

“Yes, my love.”


End file.
